


Wake Up

by everywintersbreath



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Childhood Friends, College, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, a bit angsty, doyoung is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 00:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywintersbreath/pseuds/everywintersbreath
Summary: Doyoung doesn't remember the boy who used to hold his hand in the snow.





	Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever attempt at an nct fic i hope it is ok uwu
> 
> also sorry if the formatting is a bit strange, the italics tend to mess things up for me

_Half buried in one of the deepest drifts of snow, there’s a little boy with black hair and perfectly round eyes, long lashes fluttering as he tries to shake off the weight of sleep that threatens to settle over his tiny body._

 

_“Hyung,” a voice says, soft and gentle, all too familiar. Doyoung is brought immediately out of his stupor, glancing with startled relief at the younger child dancing gracefully into his clearing of dreams. “Yoonoh,” he replies, pushing himself up without minding how the ice burns his bare palms. “You’re late.”_

 

_The other grins, simultaneously cheeky and innocent, a charismatic balance that only Yoonoh has ever been able to achieve. “Sorry, hyung. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”_

 

_Doyoung just nods tiredly, taking the hand that’s offered to him and allowing Yoonoh to pull him up, shaking out some of the crystals of frost that have settled in his hair. “What did you want to show me, anyway?”_

 

_Yoonoh puts a finger to his lips mischievously, wearing one of the frayed old mittens that Doyoung had given him for his seventh birthday. “Be patient, hyung.”_

 

_Biting at his lip, Doyoung follows after him, hand still wrapped in the other’s. Some of Yoonoh’s warmth leaks through his fingers into Doyoung’s own, and Doyoung has to hide a smile. This isn’t so bad, he thinks. It’s never been bad when Yoonoh’s there._

 

-

 

This, Doyoung thinks, is perhaps the most miserable way in which one could spend a Friday evening.

 

It’s unbearably cold in the train car, the frosted glass unforgiving against his narrow cheek, his clothes still slightly wet from when a car had splashed him with water earlier. His breaths come out in little puffs that quickly dissipate into the almost tangible air, a coating of fresh cold laying itself upon his skin every time his chest rises and falls. It seeps through the thin denim of his jacket, which, he might add, had cost a fortune, even considering that he had flirted with the clerk until she lowered the price. What a waste.

 

The cold, however, isn’t even the worst part. Doyoung can deal with the cold, can deal with the fact that his soggy slacks are starting to stick to the small hairs on his legs. The kicker is the young man who’s been standing across from him the entire ride, staring at him, refusing to look away even when Doyoung glances up and meets his eyes. Doyoung’s grip on the handle of his suitcase has gradually been getting tighter, his fingers clenched so firmly around the lever that he thinks they might actually freeze on there at this point.

 

He forces himself to stare out the train window at the buildings that are beginning to appear outside, the buildings that mark the boundary of his new home city. It won’t be long now until he can finally get off this awful train, away from the stench of armpit sweat and the cold eyes of the unfairly attractive stranger across from him. He should be happy. He’s finally out of that godforsaken village, and yet there’s something so unsettling about this whole thing. How is pretty little weedy Doyoung, mama’s boy, valedictorian, the target of every bully within half a mile, going to survive in a city like this?

 

Very carefully, he sighs, shifting his balance onto his left foot as he glances around, flinching when he notices that the man is still staring at him, unmoving amongst the busy chatter of the train car. There’s something so familiar about his dull eyes, and yet he’s also so entirely unfamiliar that Doyoung can’t help but feel uncomfortable. The man is one of those people that Doyoung’s only ever seen in magazines before, the type of person so attractive that they’re actually almost scary.

 

“Attention all passengers, the train is approaching Cheongnyangni station. Please hold on as we come to a stop.”

 

Doyoung tears his eyes off of the man, shuffling around to face the nearest door, trying to ignore the older woman invading his personal bubble of space as she attempts to be the first out. This is something that will take a lot of getting used to, the sheer number of people on the train alone already startling to Doyoung. There were only a few hundred people at most in his village, all smirking boys with stones in their pockets and old women with too much free time.

 

He struggles to grip onto a small area of metal available on the nearest railing, bracing his feet into the floor of the train as it comes screeching to a halt. With a shaky breath, he hurries out into the fresh cold of the train station, the insulated space still managing to be frigid. Truly irritating. Doyoung doesn’t like feeling this uncertain of himself, not when he’s always been at the top, not when he’s always been the only person he could trust.

 

He allows himself to be pulled along with the crowd departing from the car, dragging his suitcase close to his body as he squints up at the signs overhead, loud noises blaring from the nearby speakers over the sounds of the crowd. A little girl smacks into his leg, and then glares at him, darting off before he can so much as apologize.

 

Doyoung swallows, trying not to feel overwhelmed. Even the smell of the place is different from the countryside, all harsh and dirty, the fragrances of the greasy food that his mother had always told him to avoid mixing themselves in occasionally. It’s nauseating, especially when Doyoung doesn’t have time to so much as stop to take it all in when everyone’s shoving him along.

 

Hurrying his steps, he clambers onto a nearby escalator, feeling relieved at the bright light he can see at the top streaming in from the large windows of the station. Fresh air is what he needs right now, no matter how cold it might be.

 

Rough, somebody slams into his side the second he reaches the top, almost knocking Doyoung over and sending him stumbling back into the most congested throngs of people. He desperately tries to right his footing as he’s dragged upward, feeling like someone crowd surfing at a concert. Not that Doyoung’s ever done something like that. He always had to study, and there were too many boys who’d have loved to shove his head into the toilets backstage for that to be a remotely good idea.

 

He coughs, finally managing to find his balance off to the side, realizing in a brief moment of panic that he’s lost his suitcase in the fray, contact broken with the handle. What a great start to his move, he thinks bitterly, scanning the crowd for his indistinct black carrier. How stupid of him to not make it stand out more.

 

“Excuse me,” a voice says from beside him, dulcet tone alluring even to Doyoung’s musically intuned ears. He spins, large eyes landing on the man from the train, whose face appears even more strikingly perfect up close, his lack of visible pores immediately noticeable. Doyoung is almost embarrassed by his own plainness in comparison. “I believe this is yours?” The man questions, nudging his suitcase over.

 

Flushing red, Doyoung nods his head, gratefully accepting the offering. “Thank you so much,” he manages to spit out awkwardly. “I was worried that it had been stolen.”

 

“No problem,” the man replies, smiling now, all his brilliant white teeth showing. The expression is enchanting, and so Doyoung replies with one of his own, a lot less confident and a lot more manufactured, letting it trail off his face after a few seconds of silent staring. As if satisfied with his work, the man turns on his heel, striding away while surrounded by an aura that Doyoung really can’t explain.

 

Doyoung is left staring after him, standing alone beside a crooked vending machine, wishing he had the courage to call after the man who had been staring at him for the past few hours. What was his name? Could Doyoung buy him a coffee? Has he lived here a long time?

 

Doyoung’s shoulders slump and he turns, annoyed with himself. He can take himself out of the village, but can’t take the village out of himself, it seems.

 

-

 

_“What is this?” Doyoung asks dubiously, poking his toe at the fragile crystals that line the edge of the ravine, stumbling back when they crumble, scattering down into the darkness. Yoonoh’s arm is already there to steady him, the younger boy laughing. “You don’t need to worry, Doyoung. I won’t let you fall in.”_

 

_Doyoung grunts, folding his arms as he tries to regain some semblance of pride. “I know you won’t. I just don’t like stuff like this. It’s dangerous, Yoonoh. I hope you haven’t been exploring here.”_

 

_“Aww,” Yoonoh coos, beaming at him. “You’re probably the only person that worries about me. I promise I’ll stay safe. I know what I’m doing.”_

 

_Scoffing, Doyoung peers down into the depths, managing to make out the bottom faintly. There appear to be several rocks lining the ground, sharp from their appearance. The walls are slick with ice. There’s nothing to hold onto, almost like a glacier. He shivers unconsciously, feeling Yoonoh’s hand rub against the back of his thin jacket._

 

_“Come on,” Yoonoh says. “I promise it’s nice down there. I found a way to get to the bottom. We can meet up here and no one will be able to find us.”_

 

_“If you say so,” Doyoung replies carefully, still doubtful. He trusts Yoonoh, he does, he just tends to be a worrywart. Yoonoh grins even brighter. “I promised, didn’t I?”_

 

-

 

“Here,” the man, Jaehyun, says, handing Doyoung a syllabus sheet with a knowing smile on his face. Doyoung can’t really believe his luck, to be able to sit next to the guy from the train in his very first class in a new university. “Thanks,” Doyoung replies stiffly, all nasally and forced and yet still better than most of his daily interactions.

 

Jaehyun is fairly nice, someone who naturally feels comfortable to be around. Doyoung is almost jealous, conversing with him throughout the class. He seems to be able to talk to people easily, something Doyoung’s always wanted. Of course, once Doyoung does start to feel close to someone, he can blabber for hours, but that’s a rare occurrence.

 

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, his bright eyes flickering to the clock at the side of the room. “You’re pretty new to Seoul, right? Want to exchange numbers? I can show you the better parties.”

 

Doyoung puts on one of his startled rabbit smiles, hesitantly drawing out his phone. It’s sort of strange that someone actually wants to be his friend, especially someone like Jaehyun, who already appears leagues cooler than him in every way. Maybe there’s something wrong with him beneath the surface. Or maybe Doyoung should stop second-guessing.

 

“Okay,” Doyoung replies, inputting Jaehyun’s number into his phone carefully, testing it with a simple hi just to make sure. Doyoung always likes to make sure. That’s one of the reasons that he had never fit in with the more impulsive boys of his town.

 

Jaehyun just smiles, his lips stretching wide. Doyoung is struck once more by how handsome he is, unconsciously shrinking down a little as the other gets up, the clock having hit the hour mark. “I’ll see you around, Doyoung-hyung.”

 

Doyoung nods, trying to figure out why he feels so unsettled about the way the word hyung slips from Jaehyun’s lips.

 

-

 

_They meet at the ravine several times, staying long into the evening. Yoonoh doesn’t have a home to return to and Doyoung doesn’t want to spend time in the home where his mother’s piercing shrieks echo off the walls._

_“It’s warmer down here,” Doyoung murmurs, his head leaning against Yoonoh’s thin shoulder. The other hums in agreement, running a gentle hand through Doyoung’s black locks. “It is, isn’t it,” he murmurs. “Or maybe it’s just because we’re here together, hyung.”_

 

_Doyoung laughs softly, letting his breath hit the lower half of Yoonoh’s jaw. Something about the cold makes him so sleepy, a constant state of weariness that keeps him craving Yoonoh’s presence at his side. “Whatever you say, Yoonie.”_

 

_Yoonoh is silent for a moment, looking up at the stars that are barely visible through the cracks above. His hand is ice cold in Doyoung’s, each of them wearing one of the precious mittens. “You know, hyung, I really am glad that you became my friend.”_

 

_“I’m glad to have met you too,” Doyoung replies warmly, snuggling into his side even more for some stray specks of heat. From the corner of his eye, he sees a smile spread across Yoonoh’s lips, and he can’t help but mimic the expression. As long as Yoonoh is smiling, he can too._

 

-

 

 **Doyoung** : Are you here yet?

 **Doyoung** : Sorry to pester you, Jaehyun, but I’m not very good with events like this.

Sent 6:17

 **Jaehyun** : lol its fine hyung

 **Jaehyun** : i'm omw

 **Jaehyun** : u text like such a grandpa lmaooao

Sent 6:18

 

Doyoung flushes, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he glances up from his phone. He’s been standing in the corner awkwardly by himself, an untouched drink in his hand, trying not to get bumped into by any of the dancing drunks.

 

 **Doyoung** : Sorry. Don’t have much experience.

Sent 6:18

 **Jaehyun** : Talk to you later, I’m driving!

Sent 6:18

 

Sighing, Doyoung glances around, trying to find somewhere that doesn’t appear suspiciously wet or dirty so he can sit down. It’s been several weeks since he’s met Jaehyun now, and while it’s gotten easier to talk to him, Doyoung still feels a bit intimidated. Jaehyun is gorgeous, after all, and Doyoung happens to be extremely gay. He doesn’t want to risk exposing his sexuality in a city this big, knowing just how poorly it went back in the village.

 

Still, Jaehyun, unfairly attractive though he may be, is pretty much Doyoung’s only friend, so it’s important that he doesn’t mess this up for that reason as well. When Jaehyun had given him the invitation, Doyoung had initially been reluctant, but at the other man’s urging, he had ended up coming. Maybe it had been a bad idea.

 

“Hey,” a voice breathes, some guy, drunk off his ass, purring up against Doyoung. Doyoung flinches, giving him a drawn smile and stepping back. He hadn’t even seen where the guy came from. “Sorry, but I’m not interested,” he says firmly, receiving a blank look in response. “Too good for me?” The guy asks, laughing. “That why you’re standing here in the corner?”

 

It’s then that Jaehyun’s there, casually looping an arm over Doyoung’s shoulder, looking to be sweating, as if he’d hurried to get here. “Hey,” he says, deliberate. “What’s going on, hyung? You want something better to drink?”

 

The man appears deterred, slowly waddling away, as Doyoung glances up at Jaehyun gratefully. “I could have handled it, but thanks, really. I’m not all that sure of myself in a place like this.”

 

“No problem, hyung,” Jaehyun replies with a toothy smile. “I can show you how to have some real fun if you’d like.”

 

-

 

_“Yoonoh, stop it!” Doyoung yells, chasing after the other boy, the flakes of snow falling so thickly that he can barely see. “Yoonoh, come back! Please, you could get hurt!”_

 

_There’s no response but the crashing of footsteps, muffled by the snow that clogs up the entirety of the forest. Doyoung breathes heavily, scrambling. With this much ice and snow around, Yoonoh could very easily trip and fall into a pit. He could seriously hurt his legs, not to mention how lost they already are._

 

_“YOONOH!” He screams, stumbling. “Yoonoh, please just talk to me!”_

 

_The younger boy appears between the trees at his sign of distress, brow furrowed, watching as Doyoung barely manages to get up. “Yoonoh, I’m sorry,” Doyoung cries. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”_

 

_“Did kissing him feel good?” Yoonoh asks as if they were in a relationship and not merely best friends. Doyoung blinks, startled, scrambling. “No, no! I don’t like him like that, Yoonoh.”_

 

_“Whatever, hyung,” Yoonoh snorts, turning and running back off into the woods. Doyoung heaves for air, taking off after him. “Yoonoh, I’ve always liked you!” He yells. “I don’t know if you’re mad because you don’t like the fact that I’m gay or because I was kissing someone random, but please, just listen to me.”_

 

_Yoonoh’s footsteps slow down audibly, and Doyoung gasps in relief, making one last dash forward._

 

_His foot doesn’t ever sink into the snow._

 

_He’s screaming, plummeting down the sides of the ravine that they had called their own for so many years, falling and falling, terrified when his back crashes into something awfully sharp and grating, his head reeling, blood, wet and warm, dripping from his forehead. His leg is twisted and his back feels like it’s been shattered into a million pieces._

 

_He can’t move._

 

_“Yoonoh!” Doyoung cries out, desperate, sobbing with the last remnants of his energy. “Yoonoh, help!”_

 

_A face appears over the edge of the ravine, two haunted eyes staring down at him, and then Yoonoh is gone, disappearing into the snow._

 

-

 

Doyoung wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, a sweet scent drifting into his nose.

 

He sighs contentedly, and then stiffens, realizing the situation. Doyoung jerks upright, noticing that he’s wearing a set of large, Christmas themed pajamas which definitely are not his own. There’s no one to be seen in the bedroom, but from the food that he’s smelling, Doyoung doesn’t think he’ll have to go far to meet them.

 

Bleary and weary, he stumbles out into the main hallway, noticing Jaehyun poke his head around the corner. Doyoung blinks, startled. Did they…? Is it possible that he and Jaehyun…?

 

“We didn’t do anything,” Jaehyun laughs nervously. “I just brought you home because you were really drunk and tired and I wasn’t sure where you lived. Hope you don’t mind the pajamas.”

 

Doyoung stares for a second, and then he smiles, padding over with light feet. “Thank you, Jaehyun. That was really sweet of you. I think they’re cute.”

 

Jaehyun grins, whirling to turn back to the pancakes he’s cooking. “I’m glad. Not many people appreciate my artistry.”

 

"Their loss," Doyoung replies, depositing himself into one of the chairs at the dining room table. Jaehyun has a nice house. He almost feels bad sitting in it in this sort of state, looking as disgruntled as he must, having just woken up. At least he’s not hungover, but even that isn’t much of a prize when he observes how ethereal Jaehyun looks. Not fair.

 

Eventually, Jaehyun finishes the pancakes, little chocolate chips baked in. They’re quite good, but the really nice part is how easy it feels to laugh with Jaehyun over the top of them. Doyoung doesn’t feel the least bit awkward when they talk, or when Jaehyun gives him privacy to get dressed in normal clothes, or when Jaehyun presses a coat and some mittens into his arms and tells him to just return them the next time they meet.

 

He does stare at the mittens though, once he’s left Jaehyun’s place. There’s something oddly familiar about them.

 

-

 

_Doyoung’s hospital room is nice._

 

_There’s a big decal of a giraffe on the wall opposite from his bed, which his eyes rest on when he’s too tired to even try to think. He gives it a name eventually, Jerry. It fits the creature, he thinks. Jerry, his own little friend, the only one who doesn’t look at him with those pitying eyes._

 

_His mother sits with him often, voice a lot gentler than he remembers, rubbing his palm and talking in hushed tones with the doctor. Doyoung ignores most of it, tuning it out unless his mother is talking to him about schoolwork. Ah, how Doyoung longs to return to the comforting embrace of books and math, of long hours of distraction. At the moment, it’s like there’s nothing going on at all in his brain. He feels like a fly suspended in the amber of boredom._

 

_One day, his mother takes his hand between hers and stares into his eyes, serious. “Doyoung,” she starts. “Are you worried about Yoonoh?”_

 

_He blinks, squinting. No matter how hard he tries to remember, to think, he can’t conjure up an image of anyone with that name. “Who is Yoonoh?” He asks his mother with stuttering words._

 

_She stares at him for a moment before laughing, a humorless sigh that simultaneously conveys relief and deep sadness. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I’ll come back later, okay?”_

 

_Doyoung nods, trying to scrounge his brain for any memories involving a Yoonoh. Eventually, when the nurse comes by to turn on some mindless television show, he gives up, letting the thought drift into the deepest abyss of his mind, never to be brought up again._

 

_It must not have been that important if his mother never said anything else on the subject._

 

-

 

 **Doyoung** : Do you ever get a really strong feeling of deja vu?

 **Doyoung** : Like when you’re talking to someone?

Sent 8:12 PM

 **Jaehyun <3**: yea, i guess

 **Jaehyun <3**: why?

 **Jaehyun <3**: u wanna come over and talk about it?

Sent 8:15 PM

 

Doyoung stares up at the ceiling, wondering how Jaehyun can always be so understanding. The thing is, that might not be the best idea, not when he’s already this confused. He doesn’t need to add his gay crisis to his list of problems, and plus he’s got a chemistry test tomorrow.

 

 **Doyoung** : Can’t, need to study.

 **Doyoung** : The thing is, it’s about you. You really remind me of someone, I guess.

Sent 8:17 PM

 **Jaehyun <3**: whoa

 **Jaehyun <3**: u mind if i ask who??

Sent 8:18 PM

 **Doyoung** : That’s the thing. I can’t remember.

 **Doyoung** : I feel like this big chunk of memory is just gone from my head. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Sent 8:19 PM

 **Jaehyun <3**: that’s scary, i’m sorry

Sent 8:19 PM

 

Doyoung stares up at his ceiling, debating on whether or not to tell him. It can’t hurt.

 

 **Doyoung** : I actually had a really bad accident when I was younger. I was in the hospital for a long time. I think it might have to do with that.

 **Doyoung** : I think I actually remember my mom trying to talk to me about someone and not remembering anything about them.

Sent 8:21 PM

 **Jaehyun <3**: Can I call you?

Sent 8:22 PM

 

Doyoung blinks at the message, startled. Why would Jaehyun want to call after that information? What’s with the proper capitalization and punctuation? Well, it can’t really be that bad, can it? Carefully, he replies with a yes, watching as his phone immediately buzzes.

 

“Do you really not remember?” Jaehyun asks into the receiver, making a strange noise and then continuing. “I mean, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Hyung, I want to tell you something.”

 

Doyoung quirks up an eyebrow, settling down on the arm of a nearby couch. “What’s that?”

 

“Hyung, I really like you,” Jaehyun says, in that puppy dog tone of his. “Please be my boyfriend.”

 

Thrown off guard by the abruptness of the confession, Doyoung sits in silence for several seconds while his brain processes, finally understanding the words. “Um,” he says, voice small and confused. “My answer is yes?”

 

There’s a breath on the other end of the line, and then Jaehyun laughs into the receiver. “Thank you, hyung. I was really nervous about this all week.”

 

“No problem?” Doyoung replies, and then they both break out into laughter. Doyoung, despite feeling elated, can't help but furrow his brow. What had Jaehyun meant about not remembering? Why the sudden confession? What was going on?

 

-

 

_“Why do you want to change your name?” The woman at the desk asks monotonously, looking over his paperwork. Yoonoh shrugs, keeping a pleasant and poised smile on his face. He knows how ratty he looks, in the cheapest clothes he could find with the money from his paper delivery job. “Just want to get away from my past,” he replies. “There are a lot of things that I regret attached to this name.”_

 

_“Very well,” the woman replies, stamping his sheet. “Jung Jaehyun it is.”_

**Author's Note:**

> i might write another chapter for this but leaving it marked as complete for now
> 
> please let me know what u think <3


End file.
